Her hands shook.
Not slightly.
She shook so much that you could tell from the church entrance that she was terrified.
Or humiliated.
Or angry.
She sat alone, with thousands of white ruffles cascading down the marble steps.
She sat alone, gripping the bouquet of scarlet roses as though her life depended on it.
She sat alone, not bothering to wipe the blood in her hands before it destroyed her gown.
The blood from the thorns of the flowers.
The beautiful pain that enveloped her.
That cloaked her. Her face was bare, perfectly clean of makeup to show her naturally porcelain composure.
Placid.
Her soft pink lips were parted
ever so slightly.
But no sound came out.
Emptiness rang out from the crying stained glass.
Thunder shook the building, making the crosses on the wall clatter to the floor.
But she sat on the steps
waiting
ever
so
quietly.
The clock rang then, singing with the thunder.
Her body merely shook
waiting.
She could hear the marble floor's breath as the building towered over both of them.
Protecting both of them.
She brought her head up then,
staring at the large wooden doors that lay what felt a hundred feet away.
But she knew it would take mere moments to place her cold, bloodied hand on the sterling silver door handle and push out into the storm.
Never looking back.
But she waited.
She couldn't leave.
Her heart hurt.
Her heart hurt.
Her heart hurt.
A cry escaped her lips as the bouquet slipped out of her hand.
A sound that spoke so truly
as though she were giving up
and the petals crunched against the ivory
and the blood dripped into a pool
and the leaves were limp
as were her hands.
Why were they limp?
She couldn't do this.
She couldn't give up.
She brought her hands to cradle her face.
To cradle her now free flowing tears.
To make her tears become red.
With anger.
She staggered to her feet. Her bare feet.
The room spun
and she felt disorientated.
Why was she giving up?
Her feet stepped onto the roses
and she stood there
staring at the oak doors
whom seemed to be staring at her
mocking her
mocking her
mocking her.
Her eyes became sunken as she stepped slowly off the delicate petals beneath her feet.
As she stepped away from the beautiful red that was embedded in them.
As she stepped away from the altar.
As she stepped away from the storm inside of her.
The ruffles danced behind her as she took conscious steps to her exit.
Her hair kissed her shoulders as she rose her head
higher.
And as she reached to the gleaming silver
the storm suddenly filled the room.
The thundering shrieks
and water spun darts
attacked the marble floor
attacked the stone benches
and she saw his pleading eyes.
He saw her fear.
They stood there gaping at one another.
And he pulled her close, kissing the blood off her hands.
His gray eyes were damp
from the tears
he
was
now
shedding.
And her eyes were as dry
as the way
her
heart
felt
like
sandpaper.
And as though he was a stone
she couldn't break him down
to open
to speak
because he wasn't there
he wasn't there
no
he was
here
now.
With her in his arms
he was here
but her heart tugged
so solely to one feeling
in which would be to leave
to not hurt
but she couldn't pull away
from his tight embrace
his cologne filled suit
his pale damp hair
his sullen gray eyes
his eyes
made her sad
and she couldn't
pinpoint
why.
Until the echoing chill of the clock struck her mind.
The time.
The time.
Was gone.
She stiffened.
He let her go, asking if she was okay.
His soothing voice
silky
soft
against her thoughts.
But the time.
He asked again
with the head shaking response from her
and the simple phrase
"It's too late."
His eyes clouded.
Distraught filled the room
his distraught filled the room.
It filled
her heart
as she left
padding so quickly
that she could have tripped
over her
thousands of ruffles
but they were being dragged by the rain
the rain that had started to stop
and the thunder that turned to sparks
of light.
But she couldn't look back
because his sorrow
was hers
and it hurt
it hurt
so much
as though someone
was wrenching her heart
and there was a person doing that
it was her
she was hurting herself
why
she loved him
she loved him
and she left
why would she leave?
Because she loved herself too.
And she couldn't let her heart hurt anymore.
She couldn't let her head cry.
She couldn't let her feet feel heavy.
She wanted to fly.
She wanted to laugh.
She wanted to live.
And she couldn't
when her
entire self
hurt.
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